Temptation (Billionaire Venture Capitalist #4): A Second Chance Billionaire Romance

by Ainsley St Claire

  “Sir, they’re three minutes out. We don’t suggest you enter the property,” the operator informs me.

  “Thank you.” I disconnect the call and stand for all of probably five seconds before I walk in ready to confront the person who broke into the warehouse.

  I don’t see anything immediately. Flipping the light switch on and off gets me nothing. I’d bet they cut the electricity to the warehouse, which is what set the alarm off.

  I walk farther in and smell it—fermenting wine.

  This isn’t good.

  Using the flashlight function on my cell phone, I see wine spilled on the floor. Then I see stars.

  I wake covered in wine, and my head is killing me. A police officer is leaning over me. “Sir, are you okay?”

  I reach for the back of my head and notice a ringing in my ears. “What happened?”

  “Seems like someone hit you from behind. You have a nasty gash, and you’re bleeding.”

  I’m soaked in various stages of wine fermentation. “What did they do to my wine?”

  “Stay still, sir. The ambulance is on its way.”

  I hear Sophia before I see her. “Let me in. This is my family winery, and that’s my brother.” They must have let her pass, because she shrieks and then I feel her at my side. “Andreas! Are you okay?”

  “I think so.” I struggle to sit up, the pain so strong it’s like I’m being hit from behind over and over. I look at my fingers and they’re red, though not from wine.

  “Ma’am, the ambulance is on its way. Your brother was knocked out by the intruder. He needs to be looked at by the EMTs.”

  Sophia jumps up and covers her mouth in horror. “Oh my God!”

  I follow her line of sight and see what has her upset. Four barrels of wine have been destroyed. Four of our oldest wines.

  I lean back and close my eyes. That was probably close to a million dollars in sales, given the vintage. This is going to send my older brother here for sure. “Shit.”

  The ambulance arrives, and they insist on taking me to the hospital. Sophia remains to deal with the police.

  It’s shortly after 5:00 a.m. They’ve X-rayed my head, gave me twenty-seven stitches, and determined I have a skull fracture. Doping me up pretty heavily, the nurse warns me, “You’re going to have a headache for quite some time.”

  I dial Greer, who answers out of breath. “Hey, baby. Good morning.”

  I moan into the phone. “Good morning. You’re breathing hard.”

  “I’m just finishing my morning run. You’re early.”

  “Someone broke into the warehouse last night. When I went to investigate, I was hit from behind. I’m at the hospital.”

  “Oh my God, are you okay? I’ll shower and be right there.”

  “No, I’m fine. Really. I only wanted to hear your voice. I’m going to have one monster of a headache for a few days.”

  “Oh, sweetheart, I can work from the hospital today.”

  “No, really. I’m okay. Plus, Sophia’s here and bossing everyone around.”

  She chuckles. “I’m sure she is. What happened?”

  “The alarm went off, and I went to find out why.” I tell her what happened, leaving out that they told me to wait outside for the police.

  “I’m going to get a few things done and head up there. I have a big weekend with work, so I’d love to see you for moral support.”

  “Really, you don’t need to do that.”

  “I’m sure I can find a way to make you feel better,” she whispers seductively, and my dick becomes hard as a board.

  Laughing only makes my head hurt more. “I’m sure if anyone can make me feel better, it’s you.”

  We talk for a few more moments and end the call. I’m being moved to a room for a few days of observation. With my sister fussing, I see Melanie and Genevieve arrive.

  “Genny heard about what happened, and she wanted to come see you.”

  I pat the bed next to me. “Come here, cucciola.” She sits beside me and looks like she’s been crying. “I’m okay. Don’t worry about your papa.” I knock softly on my forehead. “This thing is hard as a rock.”

  She lunges at me with a big hug. “I was so worried about you.”

  I wince from the movement, but hold on tight and tousle her hair. “I’m okay. I promise.”

  Melanie looks at Sophia. “May I leave her here for a few hours? I need to get some work done, and there’s no way I can get her to go to school today.”

  “Of course.”

  Doctors come and go, and I’m taken for blood tests and CT scans. Genevieve is a trooper, and she’s taken over the television and is texting her friends. She’s quick to take care of me, but in a way an eleven-year-old does.

  After a while, Sophia asks her, “How about we go find some lunch down at the cafeteria?”

  Genevieve jumps at the chance to move around a bit.

  I lie in my bed and keep thinking about what happened and why someone would break in to vandalize barrels. There’s no value in destroying them, and up until now, they’ve only been stealing, which is money.

  When I look up, I see Greer. I can’t tell if it’s a mirage or if it’s really her.

  “Hey, handsome.” She puts her bag down and glides over to me. With a look of concern, she asks, “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m doing pretty well. They’re going to keep me for a few days.”

  She sits next to me and rests her head on my chest. “You can’t worry us like this. Why didn’t you wait for the police to arri—”

  “Who the hell are you?” Genevieve fumes.

  Greer bolts to a sitting position and turns to look at my daughter.

  I explain, “Genevieve, it’s okay. This is my friend Greer. I told you about her.”

  Greer starts to speak. “Ni—”

  “I don’t care who she is. She doesn’t belong here.”

  “Genevieve! We don’t speak like that,” Sophia admonishes her.

  “She needs to leave. This is family business, and she’s. Not. Family.” Genevieve’s fists are balled at her sides, her face flushed.

  Greer looks at me with regret in her eyes. “I’ll leave.”

  I grab her hand. “Let me talk to her.”

  “I’ve been in her shoes. I understand. I’m going to head back to The City. If you can talk tonight, give me a call.” Turning to Genevieve, she says, “I’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances. Take good care of your father. He needs you.”

  “You can leave now.”

  Greer nods and walks out. Sophia is quick to follow her, leaving me with Genevieve.

  “That was completely uncalled for. You need to apologize to her this instant.”

  “No I don’t. She’s not part of our family, and she doesn’t belong here.”

  “Genevieve, I know you’re struggling with the changes with your mom and Tomas, but you need to realize that your mom and I both still love you.”

  She begins to cry. “I thought when Sophia called, she was going to tell me you were dead.”

  Sophia returns and shakes her head.

  What a mess.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Greer

  I get into my car and start to cry. I don’t cry often, but I’ve been where Genevieve is, and I can’t do to her what was done to me. My heart is being ripped from my chest as the tears roll in steady streams down my face.

  I want my mommy. I don’t know if she’s going to be lucid today, but I want to see her.

  I drive over to the hospital and walk in. My mother’s doctor meets me in the lobby.

  “What a pleasant surprise. Eve is sitting in the garden and will be excited to see you.”

  “Thanks. I’ve had a bad morning, and I’m hoping my mom can make it better.”

  He looks at me thoughtfully. “I hope so, too. Come with me and let’s go find her.” We walk along the paths until we find a bench facing a pond, ducks surrounding my mom. “Someone’s been hoarding bread to fe
ed the ducks.” My mom tucks her hand in her pocket and pretends she didn’t hear him. “Eve, it isn’t healthy for the ducks to be fed bread.”

  “Can she feed them a duck food pellet?”

  “I suppose.” He eyes me carefully.

  I sit next to my mom and give her a big hug, and she hugs me back. I fight back the tears and pull my phone out. “Let’s order some duck pellets to be delivered tomorrow for you. Would you like that?”

  She nods.

  “All right, I’ll leave you two troublemakers here,” the doctor says. “Greer, feel free to see me on your way out if you need anything.”

  “Thanks, Doctor.”

  My mom is in a good place today. I tell her all about Andy and what’s happened, though she doesn’t register that my Andy and her Andy are the same person. “Oh, sweetie. That’s too bad. There’ll be another.”

  That isn’t what I want to hear, but my mother was never one to be affectionate and loving. I should’ve known better to hope for more. “Thank you for being my mom today.”

  I can tell all the stimulation is getting to her because she’s becoming agitated. Deciding that’s my cue, I tell her, “I love you, Mom. I’ll see you again soon.”

  “You’re leaving?”

  “Yes, I need to get back into The City and get some work done today. I have a big project due on Saturday.”

  “Oh, okay,” she says softly as she watches the ducks.

  I walk inside to the doctor's office to let him know how the visit went.

  “Did you get what you needed from her?”

  “I don’t think I ever got that from Eve. I love her with all my might, but she’s missing the compassion gene.”

  “I know you’ve talked to someone about it.”

  “Yes. I know what she’s capable of. I’ll be fine. Thanks for allowing me to order the duck food pellets. I ordered a twenty-pound bag that should arrive tomorrow. Maybe those who are interested can feed the ducks?”

  “I think we’re going to have a lot interested, but the gardener is going to send you a bill for picking up their waste.”

  I laugh. “Send it over. If it makes Eve happy, I’ll cover it.” I leave his office and head back to my car, feeling slightly better than I did when I arrived.

  As I drive back into town, I call CeCe and tell her what happened.

  “Are you okay?” she asks once I’ve finished.

  “I will be. I just can’t do to Genevieve what my father did to me. It’s about her happiness, not his or mine.”

  “I think you're being too hard on yourself.”

  “They’re a package deal. She has to like me at least a little bit.”

  “She’s almost a teenager. Is that even possible?”

  “I won’t force it. Sophia told me she’s taking out her anger with her mother preparing to remarry.”

  She pauses a moment. “So, how are things going for the forum this weekend?”

  I’m happy for the subject change. “Amazingly well, actually. We got everyone lined up and scheduled for who’s talking to who and when. I have all the local papers, the Wall Street Journal, the Washington Post, the New York Times, the LA Times, and a few others. I’m getting nervous.”

  “It’s all going to go without a hitch. Do you want to meet for dinner tonight?”

  “I shouldn’t. I’ve taken the morning off, and now I have a lot to do to prepare for Saturday.”

  “Well if you change your mind, please call. I’ll leave my evening open, or I can call in the girls or everyone if you need it?”

  “I’m good, really.”

  I somehow managed to turn off the ringer on my phone, and I miss several calls throughout the day. None of the work calls were pressing, but I also missed CeCe and Andy.

  I listen to CeCe’s voice mail first. “I’m still hoping I can tear you away for dinner. Let me know if you’ve found the time. Sending big hugs and kisses.”

  I then listen to Andy’s message. He sounds loopy and definitely drugged, and my heart breaks for him and all he has to deal with. “Hello, cuore mio. I really am sorry about Genevieve. She and I talked about it. Once I break free from here, we’ll organize something for just the three of us. I miss you and wish you were here. I’m really sorry.”

  I really want this to work out with him. The distance makes it hard, but I keep thinking about what Dillon said about my dad owning a company that manufactures helicopters. I’ve never been too extravagant, but this may be a way I can make it work with Andy.

  There’s a rainbow at the end of this ordeal after all.

  I pull out a bath bomb from my favorite spa, The Meadowood in Napa, and crawl into a warm bath that smells of lavender and vanilla. I’m almost ready for Saturday, so it’s time to relax for a bit.

  Staying until the water is tepid, I finally make my way to my room and crawl between the sheets before I crash.

  I never set my alarm, so I sleep in a bit for me. Waking on my own usually means I can remember my dreams, but I can’t remember last night’s—though I know it had something to do with Genevieve and my mom sitting in a press room. That would be a mess.

  I shake it off, determined to make today a good day. I dress for my run and head out, my mind wandering as I push myself hard. I used to find sweating so gross, but now I can't go three days without running until I’m sweatier than all of those I see. When my hair is saturated and the salty drops run into my mouth, it's a kiss of life, the reassurance that I can still run, still enjoy the body God gave me for years to come.

  After returning from my run and showering, I dress in all white to counter my dark mood and head to the office. My day is quiet as I continue to work outside of the office network to prepare for Saturday.

  My head is buried in my work when my office phone buzzes, and I almost jump out of my skin at the sound.

  “Yes, Monica?”

  “Hi, Greer. You have a delivery. I can bring it to you when I have relief in about an hour, or you can send someone up if you’d like it before then. Sorry, but I’ve been instructed to never leave the front desk without coverage.” Mason’s insisting that we have the front desk fully manned to make sure only those allowed are in the office.

  “You're very mysterious.”

  She giggles. “I have to entertain myself somehow.”

  She hangs up and I smile. I like Monica. She’s always cheerful and never lets the pressure of working for one of the Bay Area’s most successful venture capital funds get to her.

  I’ve been sitting all morning, so stretching my legs sounds like a good idea—plus I’m curious what was sent. Locking my computer screen and closing down my personal computer, I walk out front. Last year, Sara had someone go through her computer after turning it off and leaving for the evening, and now we’re incredibly careful about them.

  I pick up a Diet Coke and a snack for Monica; she always has a Diet Coke on her desk, and I know she’d appreciate it. Walking into the lobby, I hand her my small token of appreciation and see my delivery—a beautiful bouquet of white and lavender dancing-lady orchids and a note: ‘Flowers for cuore mio. Miss you. A.’

  “They’re so pretty. Who are they from?” Monica asks.

  I smile. Not really wanting to give her all the details, I quickly determine a light version is how I should answer. “I had a tough weekend, and a friend sent them to cheer me up.”

  “I hope it worked.”

  “It did. Thanks.”

  Finding the perfect place in my office where I can see them as I work at my computer or talk on the phone, I text him. Thank you for the beautiful orchids. They’re perfect.

  Andy: Sorry I can’t be with you this weekend, but I know it’s going to go well.

  My heart beats a tiny bit faster. He’s so thoughtful. He has so much going on, and yet he remembers that my life is crazy and sends these.

  I’m so lucky.

  Saturday starts early. We have a forum for our clients who are making rounds with the press. They’ve been encouraged to
speak frankly about some of their recent issues and taught how to avoid questions that would derail the interviews. With each press person, there’s someone from our PR agency to prevent any catastrophes.

  We bring everyone together for lunch, and Mason gives a wonderful speech before we send everyone along late afternoon. Each news outlet spoke with over ten companies, and it was a buzz of technology announcements.

  Despite the long day, I’m exhausted, but the PR team and the partners all decided to go out for drinks, not only to celebrate clearing the first hurdle but also to share our anxiety of what the coming week will bring.

  Our account manager announces to the group, “Greer, that went incredibly well.”

  “Don’t congratulate me until we see the press clippings this week.”

  I really am nervous and excited about how it’s going to all turnout. The feedback from the press and my PR people inside the room is all positive, but they’ve known for two days this was coming, so it’s the dirt they dig up that will affect how this all plays out. I raise my glass. “To my having a job at the end of the week.”

  We all clink glasses, and there’s a collective optimism with the group. We talk about some of the funny things that happened throughout the day, and we bask in our glory for at least the evening. I’ll watch the wires tonight to see how the first stories drop. I have to wait, and patience isn’t my virtue. I can’t concentrate on the conversation and figure it’s time to head home. My nerves are peaked and I need to be by myself in yoga pants and a sweatshirt while I wait anxiously.

  Walking outside, I watch the fog blanket the bay for a few moments before returning to the living room and turning the TV on. You’d think with over five hundred stations that something would pique my interests, but none do. I fluff pillows and rearrange chairs, even try reading my book, but my brain is worrying about the storm I’ve just created. All I’m left to do is pace until the stories start to hit.